


Body Parts 1: The Eyebrow

by flaming_muse



Series: Body Parts [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-12
Updated: 2003-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander Spike-sits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Parts 1: The Eyebrow

**Author's Note:**

> set in season 4 between "Something Blue" and "Hush"
> 
> The first of the "Body Parts" series, a group of ficlets roughly inspired by different parts of the body.
> 
> Originally posted to my LJ on November 12, 2003.

The bathroom door swung slowly open. Spike kept his eyes closed and listened to the boy's sneakered feet squeak against the tile as Xander stepped into the room. They both stayed still for a few minutes, Spike in the tub, Xander in the doorway, until the noise of the boy's accelerating breathing got to be too much for Spike to take.

"If you're gonna stand there and stare," Spike said, opening his eyes and grinning as he watched Xander leap a few inches off of the floor, "the least you could do is turn on the telly and give _me_ something interesting to look at."

"I... I was just checking on you. Giles left me in charge."

"Checking on me? Did you think I was going to go somewhere with the bathtub dragging along behind me? Or were you worried I might use up all of the Watcher's foofy shampoo?"

"No, I... Giles has foofy shampoo?"

"Yeah. Smells like raspberries. Not even good for color-treated hair. Right inhospitable, if you ask me. Speaking of that, why don't you turn on the telly?"

Xander crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"It's not going to work, bleachboy. Giles told me that he cut off your privileges after you put blood in his tomato soup."

"Didn't know he was going to eat it, did I? It was just sitting there bubbling on the stove going to waste," Spike said. "I can't be expected to know everything that's going on in this flat if I have to spend half my time chained up. Though, if you wanted to set up some of those little cameras I could watch from here."

"That would require your TV to be on. Which it isn't."

Spike glowered at him.

"You do realize that I could rip the pipes out of the wall with my bare hands and reach the controls myself."

Xander reached into his back pocket and pulled out a hefty wooden stake.

"You do realize that I could plunge this into your chest and release you from your chains that way," he said with a smile.

"I'd like to see you get close enough to try," said Spike.

"It's not like you could hurt me before you got one of those pesky headaches of yours."

Spike leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow.

"Vampires have a high tolerance for pain. Let's just see how much damage I can do to you before I pass out, shall we?"

He was pleased to see Xander shift backwards and grip the stake a bit more tightly.

 _Not so harmless after all, am I?_

"So how did you get stuck here?" Spike asked, settling back against the cool porcelain. "Don't you have a job or something?"

"I don't work on Thursday nights."

"Thought you told the Slayer last week it was your busiest day for doing whatever pointless thing you do."

"It was." Xander glanced away briefly. "I was fired."

"Again?"

 _And here comes the temper_ , Spike thought with relish.

"Yes, again. Shut up. At least I'm not defanged and kept in a bathtub by my enemies. With raspberry shampoo."

Spike shrugged. The boy had a point.

"So you get to play vampsitter while your little friends go out and play?"

"Buffy's on patrol with Giles, and Willow has a study group."

"And you have me."

"Yep. The proverbial short end of the stick." Xander grinned and hefted the stake again.

"Watch it with that. Watcher'd be upset if you dusted me."

"Not _that_ upset," said Xander. "You gonna make it worth my while not to?"

"With me all chained up? Didn't know you were so kinky, Harris." Spike grinned as Xander recoiled in disgust.

"You really are a pig, aren't you?"

"So the Slayer tells me. It's all that animal blood you're feeding me, I wager. I'd be more polite if were drinking from a nice, warm human."

"Yeah, 'cause you were _so_ pleasant to be around back when you were trying to kill us all," Xander said.

"Didn't hear you once accuse me of being a pig."

"No, we were too busy calling you a bloodthirsty murderer."

"See? Much nicer."

Xander rolled his eyes.

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you all night," he said.

"Fine with me. Just turn on the telly and leave me the hell alone."

"I'm not turning on the television, Spike. And there's nothing to do here but talk to you. Have you seen Giles' books? I'm not reading one of _those_ for fun."

"So you're just going to yammer at me? That's torture, that's what that is, and against the Geneva Convention."

"What do you know about the Geneva Convention?"

"I was around when they made it, wasn't I? Never followed it, o'course, but it's always good to know what rules to break."

"I really don't want to hear about how you tortured your victims," Xander said, resting against the doorframe.

"No innuendo. No torture. What _do_ you want to hear about? Tea parties? Ladies' fashions? More your style than mine, mate."

"I don't know. Tell me about your eyebrow," said Xander.

Spike raised the body part in question.

"My _eyebrow_?"

"Yeah. It's scarred, so you must've been hurt before you died. What happened? Fall off a horse as a kid? Get in a bar fight? Your mom hit you with a frying pan?"

Spike briefly considered lying to the boy, but the truth was too good to hide.

"Got it fighting a Slayer," he said.

"You fought a Slayer while you were alive? Are you really that stupid?"

"No, was long-turned by that point. Two decades or so. Was in China at the time. Boxer Rebellion." He remembered the chaos and the blood and smiled somewhat wistfully. "Came up against a Slayer there, and she gave me this before I killed her." He rubbed a finger over his scar. "Drank her deep. Her blood was sweet, that one, with a kick like nothing else in the world."

He watched Xander shudder and smiled more broadly.

"So why did it scar, then?" Xander's voice was tight, and he cleared his throat. "Is it some sort of mortal enemy thing?"

"Nah. Dru rubbed holy water or something in it afterwards. Called it a badge of honor. Was quite a night for us both. Passion, mayhem... it was like the whole world was ripe for us to dismember."

 _Even the glum old poof and his itchy soul couldn't ruin that night. The rising flames reflected in lakes of blood, screams of terror piercing the night, the smell of Dru's perfume mixed with the acrid scent of anguish on the wind..._

"Yet a hundred years later she won't even give you the time of day. And they say true love never dies. Oh, wait, you're already dead."

Spike shoved away his happy memories and focused back on the boy.

"Don't see your bird hanging around your neck, do I? Shouldn't she be here keeping you company?"

Xander's gaze shifted to the shower curtain.

"We're taking a break."

"What does that mean? She dumped you until you get a real job?"

"No," Xander said quickly. "No. We're both just... busy."

"Right. You're so busy that you got stuck here watching me while your friends are off having fun without you."

"Hey, we all make sacrifices in the fight against evil. Tonight mine is to listen to some has-been vampire talk about the good ol' days."

"They _were_ good days. And I bet your Slayer will taste even sweeter when I drink her blood," Spike said. "Her kisses sure had fire enough in them... but you wouldn't know about that, would you?"

Spike felt a brief surge of triumph as Xander flinched, but the boy struck back immediately.

"Buffy will _so_ kick your ass. Look how the mighty William the Bloody has fallen. Once you killed Slayers. Now you're kept in a bathtub by a teenager with no special powers except the ability to do a mean Snoopy dance."

"At least I can get a shag."

"I know your last girlfriend, pal," Xander said. "From what I've heard, getting Harmony in bed was never all that difficult."

"And how many times did you have her? Oh, that's right, you were pining after her friend, weren't you? Haven't seen her around, either, have I?"

"Shut up. I am _not_ getting into an argument with you about who has the suckier love life."

"Fine with me, mate. You're the one who brought it up. Not like there's any contest, anyway."

"Says the guy in the bathtub."

"Who still has gotten up close and personal with the fairer sex more recently than you," Spike said.

"Because of a _spell_."

"She wanted me anyway. Face it, Harris. Even smelling like raspberry shampoo I'm cooler than you'll ever dream of being."

"You're room temperature; of course you're cooler."

Spike rolled his eyes.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You may have a sexy trophy scar," said Xander, "but I have a stake and damn good aim. Some girls really go for that."

Spike snorted.

"Ooh, imagine how many birds you'd get if you had the stake _and_ a scar."

"You think?" Xander looked so hopeful that Spike had to glance away to keep from laughing.

"Sure. Women love bad boys, you know. I could give you tips."

"Really?" Xander shook his head. "I mean no. They'd be evil. Evil tips. Like how to rob a bank or how to kill Buffy."

"I do have a few ideas about that."

"I'm not listening."

"About the _bank_. Just think, all that money, you wouldn't care the next time you get fired. And if you wanted to bump off the Slayer to thank me for your newfound wealth, well..."

"God, why did I even come in here?" Xander asked, staring at the ceiling.

"To turn on the telly?"

Xander laughed.

"Give it up, fangless."

"Look, if you want to be cool, you could start small, like stealing me one of those soap opera magazines so I can catch up on _Passions_ now that the Watcher has turned his flat into sodding Stalag 9."

"I'm not stealing anything for you."

Spike pulled against his chains in frustration.

"But I've already missed two days. I'll never be able to catch up! Hell, I'd even read one of the Watcher's books. I am so bloody _bored_!" Twisting against his chains, he let the back of his head slam against the edge of the bathtub. At least waiting for the pain to subside gave him something to do. He let out a heavy sigh.

"I said I won't steal for you, but I'll see what I can do," Xander said quietly.

Spike opened his eyes and searched the boy's face for the trick.

"Is this part of the plan to torture me? Get my hopes up and then crush them into tiny pieces with your stupid squeaky sneakers?"

Xander shrugged.

"Could be. Or I could just feel sorry for you. Getting chained up in Giles' bathtub isn't something I'd wish on my worst enemy, but, hey, here you are."

"I don't want your pity," Spike snapped.

"But you do want the soap opera magazine."

"Yeah. And maybe a book of crosswords or something."

"You think Giles would let you have a pen?"

"Probably not. I could do 'em in blood. Be better than actually drinking the stuff. It's disgusting."

Xander slid downwards until he was sitting with his back against the doorframe.

"Okay, I've got a deal for you. Tell me another story," Xander said. "You keep me entertained tonight, and I'll see if I can get you one of those magazines. No promises about the crossword puzzles."

Spike considered the offer and shrugged.

"Guess I got nothing else to do. What do you want to hear about?"

"Something interesting. I've heard about the famous eyebrow, so now tell me about why you started bleaching your hair."

Spike launched into a complicated and entirely false tale of introducing Sid Vicious to the punk scene, but as he enraptured the boy with his words he found himself tracing his fingers over his eyebrow.

 _The scar is sexy, huh? Guess Dru wasn't a complete nutter after all._


End file.
